


Curse

by dragonsong (NekoAisu)



Series: FFXIV Write 2019 [17]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Angst, Bad end, Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers, Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Gender-Neutral Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Other, Patch 5.0: Shadowbringers, Patch 5.0: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Sin Eater G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch (Final Fantasy XIV), Sin Eater Warrior of Darkness (Final Fantasy XIV), Sin Eater Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Sin Eaters (Final Fantasy XIV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 11:15:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20873288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NekoAisu/pseuds/dragonsong
Summary: They are together unto death.





	Curse

**Author's Note:**

> For FFXIVWrite 2019!
> 
> Day 18 | Wilt
> 
> Tumblr post here: https://ffxivimagines.tumblr.com/post/187823103614/ffxivwrite-2019-18-curse

In a world of magic and mayhem, it would not be too terribly far fetched to believe love to be fatal. A maiden with a broken heart wasting away on her lonesome. An adventurer watching their lover take a blow for them and being unable to save them as they bleed out. Whatever the means, the end result was forever the same.

After living for a century and counting, G’raha Tia begins to wonder if he has been cursed to watch all he loves die and wither away.

He loved the Warrior of Light and their strange, outlandish charms. He loved those of the Ironworks who stood by him even unto their demise, praying for his success. He loved the world he came to know, each and every being on the First a beloved friend.

They were all different types of love, yes, but the result was the same every time. The Warrior fell to Black Rose. The Ironworks to the aftermath. The First to unending Light. That he could save them, he would pray to any power willing to listen. Even as crystal flows across his skin and turns him to something more than mortal and less than human, he prays.

He would have them all back if he could

The summons do not go as planned. Nor do the reactions he gets from the much needed explanation soothe his nerves. He needs the Warrior there by his side. He would have of them their strength and wisdom, but nothing more. Not forgiveness for his deeds. Not the calling of his name once more.

Not their love.

If there is one thing G’raha knows with absolute certainty, it is that he is undeserving of it.

When he finally manages to summon them, it’s a time where he has forgotten his own name. “The Crystal Exarch,” they mumble as if testing it on their tongue. He wants dearly to hear them say it tenderly.

They fight his battles and wage his war, spitting aether from their mouth in place of blood, and he knows. They will die like they did before. Different cause, same result.

Urianger agreed to help only after he catches them heaving into a plant pot down the hall from their inn room. Even then, he is accusatory. What could the Exarch stand to gain from sacrificing all that he is? It is a fool’s errand to attempt to contain the Light and yet the Warrior was sent to do it as a sacred mission. When even they struggle, is that not enough to grant the Exarch pause?

They work together long into the night with charts and times piled high around them in disarray and dissatisfaction. They find no other out.

Armed with his last attempt at saving the person he loves the most, he still finds it difficult to tear the Light from where it roils within their soul. They reach for him with one aether-coated hand and he cannot take it, cannot drop his staff and embrace them the way he wishes to, and he watches as they shift from man to Eater. Whitening, eyes turning to gilded coins, with veins solidifying into scale-like formations where aether no longer flows alongside their blood. They look unnatural, stagnant, and yet there is still a mote of desperation left in the way they cling to their sensibilities.

He pulls at the Light harder, feeling his body pulse with agony every time a new chunk of it pours into him, and does not allow himself to stop. Not with a bullet lodged close to his diaphragm. Not on his knees. He wishes he knew if he succeeded when everything goes dark.

For once, the sweep of blackness is not calming. He waits within it, chest alight with pain, and watches the crystalline formations along his torso slowly bleach to white gold. Waking feels like surfacing for air after being under the water for far too long. Emet-Selch sits across from him at a small tea table and smiles.

“You made it just in time, old friend.” And they sit and watch as the Tempest disappears under the force of unmitigated Light. “What a magnificent failure they are.”

The Exarch does not speak. The sight of the person he tried to save tearing themself apart seam by seam is horrifying. Their blood scorches the ground where it falls. He wants for them to round on him in anger, but instead they see him and quiet their wailing.

In a voice untouched by the change, they speak to him. “Forgive me, G’raha.”

And he lays witness to the world wither around them even as the Light eats away at him as well. Soon enough, he is golden and shimmering same as them. It is a pitiful way to spend the last of their days, but at least—for the first time in decades—he can die with them.

They say love is like a curse, always taking and never giving, but when he is wrapped in their arms he knows it is okay to be selfish just this once. He steals a kiss. Their first and last.

Then, they are consumed by the Rejoining. Together unto death.

**Author's Note:**

> xiv tunglr | https://ffxivimagines.tumblr.com/  
main | https://kiriami-sama.tumblr.com/  
main | https://twitter.com/flamingacekiri


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